


Fall of the Curtain

by Fox_the_Hermit



Series: Lights by their sides [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:56:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4940488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_the_Hermit/pseuds/Fox_the_Hermit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The play had ended, they could slip out of their roles and retreat into the darkness of the backstage now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall of the Curtain

Madame Red fell backwards, the chainsaw gouging a huge tear in her chest, beautiful red blood going in every direction. Her daemon, a burrowing owl by the name of Cheiranthus, exploded into a swirling cloud of golden dust, signifying that Angelina Dalles was indeed dead. Deceased, departed,  _defunct_. She had become a hindrance, and so had become unnecessary. And trash should always be disposed of.

The red-haired reaper pulled the red jacket off the fresh corpse, to keep it as a memento of sorts. As a reminder of this performance, this collaboration of two artists divided by the veil of death, one alive, and half-so, though now one is dead, the other one half-so.

Grell turned her back on the deceased woman, knowing that she was dead and there was nothing that could be done about it, (and why would she want to do anything? She had killed Madame herself, after all, and felt no guilt or remorse about this death. Everything ended, and Grell was certain that Madame would receive many flowers once everyone knew that she had played her last part of this play that is called life), and walked away, her red fox daemon, Janus, following closely at her heels.

The demon and the child were behind her, and she really could not care less about what happened to them. The curtain on this short and bloody story had fallen, the play finally ended. Time to go home, to the boring and colourless reality of the same, repetitive work, that had to be done every day, every day, forever. The mundaneness of it all was already weighing on her mind, colouring everything in the grey of daytime existence, the colours of the bright stage fading away.

Every distraction or entertainment ended, no matter how lovely.

 


End file.
